


Out of the Dark

by ZoeWiloh



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Karen Has Questions, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeWiloh/pseuds/ZoeWiloh
Summary: My version of how Karen finds out about Matt's secret. Takes place after the end of S1, ignores S2.





	Out of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at fanfiction.net but I finally got an account here so I'm adding it here as well. I'm loving the community here and I'm hoping it'll get more attention and maybe get some actual response here. 
> 
> I know the tenses don't all match but I got so fed up with obsessing over it so I finally posted it there and I don't have it in me to edit it now. Sorry. I might be the only one who notices, idk. 
> 
> The perspective/inner thoughts jump a lot in the beginning but once Karen enters the story it's mostly hers. I think it's pretty clear though who it all belongs to.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy <3

“You’re not listening to me, Matt!” Claire cried. “I have helped you escape death more times than I care to think about, but if you don’t let me take you to an actual hospital with actual doctors and medicine and crap, I… I’ve done all I can do,” she finished quietly but emphatically.

Matt was tired of this argument. Whether it was entirely rational or not, he simply couldn’t believe hospitals were where miracles happen. Or anything good, really. When he thinks of them, he can only relive the day he woke up without his sight, feeling helpless and cut off from the world. As much as he tries to be a reasonable human being most of the time, he couldn’t help but hold onto those negative memories and the need to keep himself away at all costs. In the few times he’s visited a hospital just to see someone, he was overwhelmed by all the sounds and smells that take him right back to the unshakable terror of waking up blind for the first time. No, he wasn’t doing that again. Even leaving the emotional part out of it, the sensory overload in hospitals was overwhelming to the point of torture. Besides, how would he even explain how he got these injuries? How would he explain a supposedly average blind man with extensive, repeated internal damage, multiple broken bones and a raging concussion? And that wasn’t even considering the old scars that littered his body along with fresh slices from tonight, all stitched up without any record of him ever visiting a hospital previously. That would require a hell of a story.

He gritted his teeth, as much out of frustration as from pain. “N-no hospitals. No…I trust you. You can -” He cut off as he heard her huff and move away from where he was laying. 

_ Where was he again? _ Oh, right, his apartment; he remembered that he was lying on his couch. Apparently dying, if Claire was to be believed. Most of earlier that night was a blur, he didn’t really remember how he got to this moment; bits and pieces were all he had and even those were fleeting. Bringing himself back to the present, he realized Claire hadn’t yet returned. She was somewhere in his apartment still, he could hear her frenzied heartbeat. But what was she doing? The pain in his head made it hard to pinpoint her location or figure out what it was she had stepped away to do. 

Gathering all the strength he could, Matt focussed enough to figure out that she was talking to someone. For a moment he deliriously thought it might be him before he realized she was whispering from the other side of the apartment.  _ “He won’t listen… I really need you here… I don’t have time for this, he - Yes… No. Let’s just say you need to get here  _ fast _.”  _  The pieces came together and he realized she must be in his bathroom sneaking a phone call. Judging by her words, it didn’t sound like she was calling 911. Content in that conclusion, he stopped listening. 

Between Claire being scared enough to feel the need to call someone and the pain getting to the point where even he felt it was overwhelming, Matt knew he was quickly losing control of the situation. He also knew that moving was a bad idea, but it’s so hard to feel like you’re in control when you’re flat on your back. He tried wiggling, just a little, to just inch himself higher on the couch, to get his head on the armrest,  _ something.  _

“Don’t you dare move an inch, you stubborn bastard,” Claire told him as she reentered the room. “If you’re going to keep being an idiot you need to at least stay put,” she practically growled at him. 

He froze. Again, he really knew that he was likely to hurt himself worse if he kept this up, but now he felt attacked and spat back at her petulantly, “I know you made a phone call in the other room. Foggy, I assume?” She didn’t answer but he still knew he was right so he continued, “Why would you call him now? He doesn’t need to see me like this, you’re just going to make him panic.”

“Good!” she burst out in frustration. “Maybe that panic will make you realize that you’re in serious danger here. Nobody likes hospitals you idiot! You’re a grown man and you’re being ridiculous. Listen to your body, Matt. It’s telling you it needs help, so grow a pair and let us take you to an ER!”

Wincing, he opened his mouth to counter but lost the words before he could get them out. He knew he was fading fast and had only one more thing to say. “If I wake up in a hospital later I will never forgive you guys,” he said in the most threatening voice he had at the moment. It sounded weak and unimpressive and he could feel Claire glaring at him, clearly not convinced. He tried to repeat what he said but didn’t quite get all the words out before losing consciousness. 

 

X

 

Waking up was about as pleasant as passing out in the first place. Actually, this was worse because even though it took him a minute to put the pieces together, he realized someone was slapping his cheek to get him to wake up. 

“C’mon buddy, wake up,” a voice that he quickly identified as Foggy’s told him. 

Matt may have been struggling to use his usually excellent other senses, but even in this state he could hear that Foggy was failing to conceal how worried he was. But something else, too. Annoyance, maybe? In the time it took him to think that through, Foggy changed tactics to flicking him on the forehead. Matt tried to shoo him away but had forgotten how badly his shoulder was hurt and ended up crying out in pain. 

“Well, he’s awake,” Foggy told someone flatly. So Claire must still be here. 

“You didn’t need to do that. I was just sleeping.”

With a humorless laugh, he answered, “You were blacked out. Unconscious. Very different things, my friend. Seriously though, what is wrong with you? We need to get you help.”

He almost shook his head but remembered at the last second that that would be immensely painful too. “I’ll be fine. You know how good Claire is -”

“Not good enough,” Claire muttered, leaving Matt to wonder if she intended for him to hear or not. 

“But really, Foggy, you’ve seen me worse. Why is everyone so convinced I’m dying?”

“Actually, no. Dude, not trying to make a blind joke here, but if you could see yourself you would get it. You look like hell. Way worse than that time with Nobu. So, congrats, you’ve set a new record low. I’m not even sure I want to know how all of this happened,” he said with a motion of his hand. “Do you really want to die here on your couch beat to crap?”

Closing his eyes and sighing, Matt answered, “You guys need to calm down. This hurts and everything, but I’ll be okay. What do I have to say to convince you guys that I’m fine?”

“What do we have to say to convince you you’re not?” Foggy replied, almost pleading. He sounded so desperate, Matt almost felt bad about all of it. Not enough to go to a hospital of course, but enough to fuel the guilt that regularly swirls inside him. 

It was clear that not even Foggy’s begging was helping, Claire tried again. “You’ve passed out multiple times just since I’ve been here, you know. Could be a concussion, could be from that extreme pain, could be lots of things and none of them are good. Your pain tolerance is ridiculous so I know it must be bad if you’re coping this poorly.”

With an annoyed look clear on his face, he retorted, “I’ve had concussions before. You know that better than anyone.” It was obvious to everyone in the room that Matt had completely ignored the comment about pain. He was clearly avoiding the subject, leading Foggy and Claire to share a look first of exasperation that then turned into worry. 

Rolling her eyes she replied, “Maybe, but  you’ve never been in and out of consciousness like this. How many times do I have to remind you that that is  _ not  _ normal?”

Before Matt could respond, they were interrupted by a mechanical voice saying  _ Karen _ over and over. Somehow his phone had made it across the room, and he reflexively tried to sit up to get it, and immediately regretted it. Crying out as he settled back to the couch, Claire rushed over to make sure he hadn’t managed to make anything worse. 

With a sigh, Foggy said defeatedly, “I’ll get it.” He then bitterly added under his breath, “Maybe if  _ Karen _ were here he’d actually listen for once...”

“I heard that you know,” he told his friend. “You can’t tell her anything,” he breathed, now his turn to plead. “She can’t know about any of this.”

Foggy stopped suddenly, still with his back to Matt. “She’s been asking questions. She’s not going to put up with much more of this. You know how she is, she’s going to keep digging...we need to tell her  _ something, _ ” he trailed off. They were silent for a moment, and the mechanical voice calling out  _ Karen _ stopped. The silence was overwhelming for a moment, but didn’t last. A few long seconds later, Foggy’s phone began to go off. “Karen again. I’ll handle it.”

He hit the button to answer his phone but didn’t even get the chance to greet Karen before she started talking. “ _ Foggy? It’s Karen. What’s going on?” _

“Nothing, nothing’s going on. Why do you ask?” he told her nervously. From the look on Matt’s face he could tell that his friend was listening too. Foggy knew he sounded way too nervous, but between the stress of lying to someone he cared about and the stress of seeing his best friend in such awful condition, he was having trouble keeping his voice steady. 

_ “Because I’m not an idiot. And I am tired of you guys running off and leaving me in the dark. Tell me what’s going on!” _

Foggy’s eyes darted nervously around the room, eventually locking eyes with Claire. She realized he was looking to her and just shrugged and shook her head in an exaggerated manner. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said breathlessly. 

_ “Really? That’s the way you’re going to play this? You ran out of the office while I was coming back from getting lunch and I haven’t heard from you in hours. Matt’s still not here, I’m guessing he’s with you,”  _ she accused _. “If he’s hurt again just tell me,”  _ she said with a much softer tone _. “I worry. Please stop locking me out like this, I can’t handle it anymore.” _

Looking at his best friend, Foggy could tell he was still listening. His face was a concerning mix of guilt, apprehension, and agony. Foggy didn’t know what to say next. He knew Matt didn’t want her to know. Hell, even Foggy didn’t want her to know. The hurt in her voice was obvious, and he wanted to console her. Karen was his friend too, and it was really hard for him to keep lying, especially when it was clearly taking a toll on her. Suddenly, all he could think about was how angry he had been when he first learned Matt’s secret. The betrayal. He didn’t want to keep the lie going because if - when - Karen finds out, it is not going to be pretty. But he decided this wasn’t his secret to tell. And telling her here would be just as much of a betrayal to Matt. The quick procession of emotions overwhelmed him and all he could say was, “Karen, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can tell you right now.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Sad from being left out? Angry for being obviously lied to? Confused wondering what the two of them could possibly be hiding? Finally she spoke up.  _ “Fine,”  _ she said frostily. _ “I’m done. You guys need to find a new receptionist because I will  _ not  _ be here whenever you two come back.”  _

He was about to try and beg her not to go when he realized she had already hung up. After staring at his phone for a minute, he turned to Matt and said, “I’m guessing you heard that.”

“Yeah… I heard,” he whispered. The look of regret was clear on his face. “I … I’ll talk to her when I’m back on my feet. I’ll fix this,” he said with a groan. 

A moment later, Foggy and Matt both sighed at once, almost perfectly in sync, and Claire couldn’t help but smile a little at the bizarre duo. She worried about Matt a lot, and not just while she was actively fixing him up. Criminals injured by Daredevil often showed up in the ER, and some with particularly hurt feelings would brag about how badly they had hurt him in return. It was usually empty, typical ‘well you should see the other guy’ talk to mask their equally injured pride, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She would be wondering for the rest of the night if she was about to get a phone call. Or, if any of what they said was true, if he was too hurt to call. If she was never going to get a call from Matt again. 

Patching up someone so stubborn was a pain in the ass. It’s no mystery that he’ll be back out there, far sooner than he should be, and would inevitably get himself hurt again. So she was really glad Matt had someone like Foggy who cared about him. As hard as it was on her, she knew it was so much worse for Foggy, but she could trust him to care for Matt when he wouldn’t care for himself. Or at least trust him to call her when Matt was adamant that he was “fine” - but clearly wasn’t. Because he was never going to stop being Daredevil. Not by choice, at least. 

Claire shook herself out of her thoughts and looked around the room. Foggy had settled into the armchair, head tilted back and staring at the ceiling, while her most persistent patient had closed his eyes, resting. His breathing wasn’t sounding good, but he was still doing it at least. She was pretty sure he was resting but not unconscious. He needed rest, but if he had passed out again that wouldn’t be a good sign. He shifted a little on the couch, not ideal, but she noted he did it without moaning in pain, which could potentially be a good sign. 

Just when she was thinking he was stable, his eyes snapped open wide. “S-something’s wrong,” he said quickly as his eyelids began to flutter. 

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but something was definitely  _ wrong _ . Matt could usually tell what was wrong internally and the fact that he wasn’t sure worried him. The feeling of losing control overwhelmed him again, prompting him to turn his head and cast his eyes around the room absently searching for his friends. He tried to focus on their heartbeats, but even that usually simple task was exhausting.

A second later, Claire was at his side, stopping him from trying to sit up again. Urgently, she said, “Talk to me, Matt. What’s going on?” He answered with just a groan and turned his head away from her. “C’mon, I need more than that.” She pulled away the blanket that she had tossed over him earlier and got her answer. Half of Matt’s torso was covered in huge, fresh bruises along his left side. He was covered in bruises she’d already seen but she was fairly certain these were new since she had first examined his injuries. “Shoot.”

Watching over Claire’s shoulder, Foggy felt lost and asked in a panicked tone, “What? What is it?”

“He’s bleeding internally. Badly.” She starts checking the rest of him, listening to his breathing, checking his other wounds. 

Confused, Foggy asked, “Wait. He usually knows when stuff is broken or bleeding or whatever. Shouldn’t he have known?” Matt made a face at this, but Foggy wasn’t sure whether it was because he was talking about him like he wasn’t there or just because he was in so much pain. 

The realization makes Claire freeze for a moment until she shakes herself out of it and continued what she was doing. She hadn’t thought of that. Foggy was right, Matt had always been annoyingly aware of what was happening in his body. It made it really hard to argue with him about seeking medical help or body scans because he already could tell her what was going on. His eyes were starting to close, he was close to passing out again. She shook him lightly on his shoulders with no response. Not good. She started tapping his cheek, eventually getting closer to smacking. His eyes widened a little and she asked him, “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you say you were bleeding?” No answer. “Answer me! Did you know you were bleeding?” 

Matt tries to shake his head but can’t and with a cough he answers, “No. No, s-s-something wrong,” he gets out. 

“Foggy, call 911!” 

This gets Matt’s attention. “No! No, I’ll be okay,” he manages to get out. Claire is still not impressed. He takes a breath and says to her, “I feel it now. Sorry. It’s around my left lung. It’s not a big deal,” he says with a gasp. “Not a big deal,” he repeated, trying to sound more sure and less like he couldn’t breathe.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” she sarcastically told him. “Matt, it is time to involve a hospital. Especially if you can’t tell me what’s going on.” 

Foggy watched helplessly as Claire continued to shake his best friend. He was getting less and less responsive and his coughing sounding more like choking. The coughing started to diminish, but by the time it stopped, Matt was out cold. Going from Claire’s face and the fact that Matt was apparently unconscious again, even Foggy knew this was bad, and the only medical knowledge he had came from years of watching bad hospital dramas. 

Claire settled back to the floor beside the couch and Foggy trudged back to his chair, drinking in the uncomfortable silence. Who would have thought desperate coughing and gasping could be preferable to quiet? 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Matt mumbles, making his friends jump. He still had his eyes closed and neither of them had realized he was still awake. “Someone’s at the door,” he mutters, a few seconds before that someone starts knocking. 

Claire goes back to checking on Matt now that she knows he’s awake. Without turning away from him, she tells Foggy, “Get the door, I need to stay with him.” Grumbling under her breath she adds, “Because who knows how long he’ll stay awake this time?”

Foggy, hesitant to stop hovering over his friend, shook his head and responds, “Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses or something. They’ll go away.” 

This time she does stop and look at him over her shoulder. “Go get the door. Get rid of them. Quickly.” Her words left no room for argument. He can’t help but remember the time that Matt had confided that Claire scared him sometimes. Foggy definitely understands now. 

Foggy agrees silently and heads for the door. The knocking gets louder. “I’m coming,” he grumbles. Opening the door, he’s met with Karen’s furious glare. “K-karen, wh-” 

“Thought you guys might be here. Figured I’d see what’s happening for myself. May I?” She asks, feigning excessive politeness as she motions with a nod, asking if she can come inside. Foggy sputters, and she moves to press past him into Matt’s apartment regardless of the lack of welcome. He puts his arm in the doorway in a feeble attempt to stop her, but he knows if she really wants to physically push past him he won’t be able to stop her. Not for lack of strength really, but more of a lack of resolve to keep this secret from her anymore.

She moves forward as if to press through, leaning in close, and whispers angrily, “Really, Foggy? Are you really going to stop me? I’m here. I care about you two. Let me in.”

He looks over his shoulder for a moment before desperately saying, “Please. Now is  _ really _ not the time. I’ll call you, okay?” he adds desperately. 

She seems to be deciding what to do next and takes a step back. Just as she looks up at him, angry tears in her eyes, the two hear Matt cry out. Foggy winces at his pain and casts another glance over his shoulder, and Karen takes the opportunity to push past him. He manages to grab her arm. His grip isn’t enough to hurt her, but it’s enough to make her stop, for the moment. “Let. Me. Go,” she growls. It’s official, now he’s a little scared of Karen too.  He doesn’t let go just yet, pleading with his eyes. She says quietly, kinder this time, “Let me go, Foggy. What the hell is going on here?” Matt whimpers again, and after a moment, Foggy lets go of her arm. He looks down and away, not wanting to meet her gaze once she sees what’s behind that wall. 

At this point, Karen isn’t sure what she’s going to find. She can tell Matt’s hurt, but what is actually happening? What could they be this desperate to hide? The noises from within the apartment sounded awful, and Foggy is being even more secretive than usual. Not just secretive either, he looks ashamed. Her curiosity drives her forward. She steps through the small hallway, crossing into the main room, and is shocked by what she sees: Matt, beaten, half-dead, with a woman she doesn’t recognize sighing heavily and looking utterly defeated after looking him over. Various medical supplies surround her by the couch, but after tearing her eyes away from Matt, apparently now unconscious, what catches her eye is the Daredevil suit carelessly discarded on the floor. She’s so stunned she keeps staring, not noticing that the woman is now sitting down on the floor and removing her gloves, finished with whatever was happening with Matt.

“What part of ‘get rid of them’ was so hard, Foggy?” She asked exasperatedly. She sounds exhausted. Jaw still dropped, Karen looks up from the suit to the woman, who gives her a small wave and grimaces. “Hi, uh, I’m Claire. Karen…right?” She looks over to Foggy and says, “He passed out. Probably going to be awhile. Nothing more to do, just need to keep an eye on him.” He nods, looking absolutely exhausted too.

Karen takes another look around the room. Matt was unconscious. Foggy stepped around her and fell into the armchair, face in his hands. Some woman - Claire? - was taking care of a man Karen wasn’t sure she knew anymore. And the Daredevil suit she had seen before so many times - just never in person - was on the floor, complete with the horned mask staring back at her. Blinking, having taken it all in but understanding none of it, Karen asks the logical question: “What the hell is going on here?” 

Foggy still has his face buried in his hands and the extended silence was getting awkward. Karen was fuming and scared and Foggy was making no move to speak up, so Claire winced uneasily and tried to break the silence. “Which part?” 

She had to stop and think. Which part of this was the most outrageous? Which part of this whole situation does she question first? “What happened to Matt?” She asked hesitantly. Her friend was in terrible shape, that much was clear, and though she had so many questions about everything, she decided to ask about him first. 

Nodding, Claire looked to Foggy to speak again but when he remained silent Claire awkwardly took the reins again. “He was out... _ doing his thing _ ...last night. Got into some trouble. Took on a few guys,” she finished quietly.

Karen was speechless for a moment. She couldn’t decide between asking _ how _ or  _ why _ her blind friend ‘took on a few guys’. “A few guys did that to Matt?” she quietly asked in a whisper.  _ Friend first,  _ she thought.  _ Daredevil later.  _

Foggy had his hands down now but was staring intently at the floor, clearly with no plans of speaking up, so Claire stepped up again quietly chipping in, “My understanding is that there was a baseball bat involved. And some pipe. And a broken bottle. And I think he may have fallen a couple stories.” 

“Oh my god,” Karen breathed. She took a few tentative steps from where she had been frozen in place. She was angry that Matt and Foggy had been hiding this from her all along, but more than that she was really worried. These guys had taken her in, taken care of her, and saved her in more ways than one. They weren’t just friends at this point: they were her family. Knowing now that they do everything while having all of this on their shoulders too, she couldn’t imagine the stress they’ve both been feeling. The reason for all the secrecy was suddenly clear, and she could almost understand. She wished they would have told her sooner, let her in on this part of their lives. But at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to hold onto the anger that she could feel slipping away more every second, leaving her with only awe. And so many questions. She almost wanted to be angry, angry was understandable here - as understandable as anything about this situation was - but that wasn’t what she was feeling.

After a few more steps, she stopped and kneeled at the end of the couch, near Matt’s feet, mirroring Claire next to his head. Without taking her gaze from Matt’s face she asked, “And who are you?”

Claire turned to Foggy, seeming to silently ask his permission to continue. He nodded and so did she. “I’m a nurse. A while back, I found Matt…almost dead in a dumpster. I took care of him and I’ve been his nurse on-call ever since,” she said with a slight sigh. She said it all almost like it was normal for her, though Karen could tell she really didn’t want it to be. Claire stopped and looked at Matt sleeping. Karen could see that she deeply cared about him. He wasn’t just a patient, he meant something to her. And neither of the ladies were sure how they felt about that. 

Something clicks in Karen’s head about what the nurse had just said. “Uh, on-call? How often does he call you?” She asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer. She saw Matt banged up often and had started to question the claims that it was nothing but clumsiness long ago but now realized that all these times he was hurt, it was from him being out in that mask… 

As if Claire can see the gears moving in Karen’s mind, she quickly covers herself with, “More often than I’d like.” It wasn’t a lie. Matt Murdock may be a great guy, but Daredevil was a stubborn, reckless asshole that was hell-bent on protecting the city at any cost - and that cost often required a nurse at the end of the night. 

Karen turns to Foggy next. All of the secrets and lies were melting away, leaving insatiable curiosity behind. “How...how long have you known?” She prepared herself for his answer, told herself she wasn’t going to be mad, no matter what he said. These guys have been inseparable since college, and she wasn’t going to be hurt that it took time for her to be let in. Well, she was going to try her best, anyway.

Foggy looked immensely uncomfortable but looked Karen in the eye and answered, “Remember the ‘car accident’?”

“The one we all knew  _ wasn’t  _ a car accident?” She said, unable to get rid of the last little bit of accusation in her voice. 

“That’s the one,” he said with an uneasy chuckle. “When that happened, I found Matt here, dressed in the mask, in really bad shape. Really bad,” he repeated to himself quietly. “‘Near dead’ doesn’t do it justice. Claire fixed him up and we had the worst fight we’ve ever had. I’m sure you remember..”

She did. She had spent a lot of time wondering what had caused the divide between them, but once everything was back to normal she was too afraid to ask. But that sparked something else as well. “Wait. That wasn’t that long ago...you’re telling me he hid it from you for a long time? I thought you guys…I thought you guys were like brothers.”

“Well, yeah, what did you think the fight was about?” he said simply. His voice was dark, and she could tell there was still some discomfort in discussing the topic. Bitterness as well. 

Recalling Matt beat up after his ‘car accident’ made Karen wonder. “What actually happened? The not-a-car-accident?” 

Foggy startled, her voice seeming to shake him from deep thought. He rolled his eyes. “Matt says ninjas. Left some crazy scars.”

“Ninjas? Really? You’re BSing me, right?  _ Ninjas?! _ ” Karen asked skeptically. She looked to Claire to see if she shared the sentiment and just got a knowing smile and shrug in return. “Do you not believe him?”

“Well, okay, just one ninja. I don’t know, honestly. It sounds like a total lie, right? But knowing him…” He punctuates his statement with a shrug of his own.

The group sits in a weird silence until Matt makes a strange sound, making them all jump. Claire leaps up and checks him over, Foggy and Karen practically holding their breath until she gives the okay; he’s fine, still unconscious though.

They sit in a more comfortable silence, but Karen’s inquisitive side gets the better of her. “So…” she begins. “Tell me about Daredevil.”

Foggy shrugs and Karen looks at him surprised. “What’s there to tell?” Foggy asked with a sigh. Karen was confused at first. There was  _ so much _ to tell; what a strange response. But after looking at Foggy and following his deeply concerned gaze to Matt, she began to understand. He may have accepted that Matt is Daredevil, but that doesn’t mean he likes this. And considering how bad Matt looks now, not to mention all the smaller injuries she’s observed up until this point, she now understands the anxiety he feels on a regular basis. She’s beginning to feel it too, but the extent of it hasn’t sunk in yet. All of the times Matt hadn’t shown up to work and Foggy dashed out of the office finally made some kind of sense. And now that she thought about it, those days were happening more and more lately. 

“Well,  _ how _ for starters,” she says with a snort. “Kind of defies belief, doesn’t it? He is really blind, isn’t he?” 

Foggy is about to go into the basics when Claire jumps in instead. “You should ask him. He can give you a better idea. But basically all his other senses are mega-amplified. Calls it his ‘world on fire,’” she recalls with a smile and a far-off look in her eye. 

When she doesn’t continue, Karen asks, “But, isn’t that true for all blind people? That the other senses grow stronger to compensate?” 

“Not like this,” Foggy said, shaking his head. “The chemicals that got in his eyes took it to a superhuman level. He can tell all kinds of crazy things about you just by your smell. It’s spooky, honestly.”

As Karen thinks about that odd piece of info - just hoping she doesn’t smell bad _ \-  _ Claire speaks up, “He told me once he knew I was cut and bleeding because he could taste the copper in the air.”

Unsure what to say to that, Karen blurts out the first thought that popped into her head. “Were...were you wearing clothes?” Her hands fly up to cover her mouth as she realizes what she just asked and a bright blush rushes to her cheeks. In answer, Claire gives her an amused look and nods to reassure her that yes, she was clothed. Well, kind of, but she didn’t feel the need to clarify  _ that _ much. 

“Oh, and don’t bother trying to lie to him,” Foggy mentions and Claire seconds the thought with a nod and eye roll.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He can hear your heartbeat. Your heart does weird things when you lie. He’ll know if you do. Usually won’t call you on it though. Unless he’s drunk, then all bets are off,” Foggy explains and laughs at the end, apparently remembering a story that Karen made a mental note to definitely ask about later. 

At first she’s fascinated. It must be a really good skill for a lawyer to have. Then everything stops as she remembers the first night he brought her here, and she lied to him about having copies of those documents. And the Mask saved her that night. “Oh my god,” Karen murmurs as Claire and Foggy obliviously take turns sharing funny stories about Matt, attempting to lighten the mood. “Oh, my god. That’s how he knew to follow me,” she said louder. Her eyes grew wide and she turned to stare at Matt, her mind still going through the events of that night. 

“What?” Foggy asked, looking concerned. Karen looked really spooked and from all that they’ve been through together, he knows that doesn’t happen easily. 

“The night the Mask - Matt -” she corrects herself, “Saved me in my apartment, I had lied to him. I had told him I didn’t keep any of the documents, but I did. I thought he was asleep, and I snuck out, and oh my god,” she cut off, nearly crying. She wasn’t sure why this was making her borderline hysterical. She’d been grateful to the man who saved her that night, and learning that it had been Matt made her feel odd, but she felt safer here next to him than she had in a long time. So why was she so upset? Slowly, she got a grip on herself and calmed herself down. In her panic, she had turned her back to the couch, to Matt, but now turned back to him, running her hand lightly along his shin over the blanket covering his lower half. “He saved me because he knew,” she said quietly, choosing not to elaborate further. 

“Y’know, he insisted we take your case. Insisted you were innocent. I didn’t know why until recently, he told me he listened and knew you were telling the truth. I told him it was creepy and invasive, but maybe it wasn’t all bad,” Foggy told her softly. 

“Is...is he going to be okay?” Karen asked, with sudden, renewed worry. They’d all been sitting and talking about their friend like he wasn’t unconscious and badly wounded on the couch right next to them. The light atmosphere was gone, replaced with worry from all three of them. 

“I think so,” Claire said with less confidence in her voice than any of them would have preferred. She pulls on a fresh set of gloves and gets back into medical mode. “The worst part is probably the bleeding. He has at least one broken rib...he said it was only fractured but honestly I don’t think I believe him.”

“Why would he lie?” Karen asked.

“Because he’s an idiot that always insists he’s fine no matter what,” Claire said with some light back in her voice. She looks at Karen, still confused. “He can usually tell when something is broken or when he’s bleeding internally-” 

“Of course he can,” Karen sighs, making note of yet another amazing thing her friend could do. 

“Anyway, yeah, he can tell, and he said the rib was only a little fractured but I think he lied to downplay how hurt he is. He probably thought it was the least of his problems,” she said with a frown, still looking him over. 

Still confused, Karen shakes her head and says, “But no, why would he lie about how badly he’s hurt?”

“Ah,” Claire sounded in understanding. “He refuses to go to the hospital no matter how badly he’s hurt...and no matter how strongly we insist. Says it’s not safe, says he doesn’t need it, says it overloads his senses, says it reminds him of his childhood, says whatever he can think of to avoid them…” She trails off before continuing quietly, “He always says he’s fine, refuses to acknowledge how bad he’s hurt. But lately I think he’s flat-out lying about the injuries. It’s really a problem.”

All three of them shake their heads a little. Karen has a hard time wrapping her head around what Claire just said. What Matt does out there is dangerous enough, but from what she’s describing, he’s risking his life just as much when he comes home. He may be a little stubborn sometimes, but he’s not so stupid to throw his life away over something as small as seeing a doctor, is he? With injuries this serious happening to him so often, surely he must understand the importance of taking care of himself? 

“But I’m worried that he didn’t notice the bleeding in his chest until it was affecting his lung. He normally would have noticed and said something,” Claire continued. 

Looking up, Foggy asked Claire, “Did he seriously not tell you he was bleeding internally to avoid going to the hospital?” He quietly added to himself a moment later, “That’s a new low even for him.”

The nurse thought about it for a moment and in the end shook her head. “Nah, internal bleeding can be delayed by hours or even days after the initial injury. It probably didn’t start until later. I don’t think he was hiding it all along. Besides, I would have noticed bruising that bad earlier.” 

“So what do we do now?” Karen asked. She was impatient for Matt to wake up, most of all because she wants to know if he’s okay.  _ That _ is most important. But it’s only the first of many, many questions she has in a growing list forming in her head. 

“Nothing we can do but wait. He might wake up soon. But, um. I don’t know if you should be here,” she says awkwardly to Karen. Karen can’t help but feel a little hurt. Is she not important enough to be here? Would Matt not want her here with them? Claire sees that she hurt Karen’s feelings and holds up her hands to reassure her. “No, no, sorry, just - I don’t want to overwhelm him -”

Foggy sees her panic a bit and jumps in. “He’s probably going to be a little freaked out to find out that you...found out. Especially that you found out like this,” he says in a kind tone. But he looks to Claire now and shakes his head, “I think she should stay. If she wants,” he adds quickly at the end.

Claire is still unconvinced. “I don’t know. You know how difficult he is.”

Foggy shakes his head again. “No point. Even I can smell Karen’s shampoo across the room, he’s going to know she was here either way,” he reasons. “Might as well get it over with.”

Karen stands and perches herself on the armrest by Matt’s feet. She lets herself take in all of Matt’s injuries - all that she could see, at least. The bruises were alarming enough. But then she reminded herself that she hadn’t even seen his whole body. She didn’t want to think about what his legs or back must look like. She realized that she could see a long slice, bound with stitches, wrapping itself around his shoulder, and if that was any indication of what the rest of his back looked like she definitely didn’t want to see that. Not because she was squeamish, but because she had seen enough, and she couldn’t bear to see him any worse than she already knew him to be. But she couldn’t bear to walk away now either. “I want to be here. I need to know he’s okay.” 

Claire still looked unsure but nodded. She knew how Karen felt and didn’t feel right turning her away. And if Matt was going to know she was here anyway, maybe it was better for her to be here to calm him down and tell him it’s okay. “I’m going to need to check him over again when he wakes up. If you wouldn’t mind just standing back and maybe quiet until I’m sure he’s okay?” Claire asks, just trying to think through how to best keep him from freaking out. She realizes what she said and corrects herself, “Well, okay enough, anyway. If he freaks out I’m not going to get any answers out of him about his condition.”

Karen nods. She definitely doesn’t want to be in the way. “I can do that, of course.” After pausing, she asks, “Is… is there anything else I should know?” She could barely wrap her head around the number of things she now realizes she doesn’t know about Matt. Her curiosity was getting the better of her still, and she didn’t want to wait until he woke for answers. Besides, she also needed something else to occupy her mind until he did, because the more she looked at all his injuries the more scared for him she became. When she couldn’t bear to look anymore, she tore her eyes away and looked to Foggy. 

“Anything else? I don’t know,” he answered. He wasn’t trying to avoid the question but he genuinely wasn’t sure how to answer. It’s not like he didn’t have tons of questions when he found out about all this, but he wasn’t sure what else there was for him to say. Most of his questions had been about feeling lied to and betrayed, and Karen was just curious in general. Their reactions were so different, and that really surprised him. Not that he felt bad about being angry; that still felt perfectly justified. But she was clearly thinking about it all so differently that he couldn’t decide what to pass onto her. 

It was getting quiet again. Karen couldn’t handle it, quiet was too much. “Just tell me something,” she begged. 

Her desperation was easy to hear, and almost infectious. Suddenly he was desperate too, desperate to calm her, desperate to take both their minds away from their hurt friend. “Aw, jeez, what else is there? How about what else he can do? He, uh-” Why is it as soon as he wants to talk his brain shuts off? He’s a lawyer, he’s supposed to be good at talking! “He cares about this city and the people in it so much. All he wants is to protect everyone. And he can’t. Not always. It eats him up sometimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with that. But what he really can’t deal with is feeling like he coulda helped but didn’t. That’s why he gets hurt so much. He cares about the city more than he’s ever cared about himself.”

Karen sits silently, thinking about what Foggy said. She realized not long after meeting him that Matt was probably the most selfless person she’d ever met. He had striven to defend her when she was found bloody and holding a murder weapon. He turned down a position at a respected major law firm to go and start his own firm with Foggy so they could help the less fortunate. And every time he was hurt, he refused to let anyone take care of him, it was always more important to soldier on and worry about everyone but himself. Add to the list what he does every night, and it was clear that Matt thrived on helping others. 

But she couldn’t help but think about the consequences of that life, especially when those consequences were clearly displayed all over his body right next to her. She could see scars all over his torso and marvelled over how he’d had them under his shirt all this time but from the way he carried on every day, she’d have never known. He was in danger daily, not just from criminals but also from himself, if what Claire and Foggy said about his refusal of medical treatment was true. For the hundredth time that night, Karen was amazed by all that she never knew about Matt. The amazement soon shifted back to worry, the other prominent theme of the day. 

“Y’know, I’m sick of patching him up,” Claire began. “He’s been through a lot. I can’t imagine what the pain must feel like most of the time. But he’s so damn tough,” she said with a reluctant smirk. “His lung almost collapsed the first night I met him. He’s been through crap you wouldn’t believe. I can’t help but feel that this isn’t how Matthew Murdock is going to go out.”

“Really? That’s oddly optimistic,” Foggy responded. 

Claire shrugged in reply. She had been aiming to reassure everyone but it didn’t seem to work. “His breathing is sounding better. I still wish he would go to a hospital, just to be sure. He -” she cut off when he made a noise, snapping all attention to Matt. The nurse looked to Karen, still sitting on the armrest, and held a finger to her lips as a reminder to give her a minute. She goes to work checking on him, first checking his pulse on his wrist as she asks him, “Matt? It’s Claire. You with us? Talk to me.”

Matt drowsily opens his eyes before blinking a few times and responding softly, “Yeah. Yeah I’m here.” His voice was a little raspy but even.

“You okay, buddy?” Foggy added in the background.

“Mmhmm.”

As she finishes taking his pulse, Claire continues, “More specific. How’s your chest feel?” His eyes shut again and she demands, “Matt? You going out again?”

He shifts his upper body, looking uncomfortable. Eyes still closed, he says rather clearly, “No. I’m still here. Just tired. Chest hurts. Maybe that rib is more than fractured after all,” he admits with a wince, which earns an I-told-you-so look from Claire. Even in this state he picks up on it. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grumbles. 

Moving past the small victory, she moves to listen to his chest. “You sound better than earlier. Your lungs do too. But you need to stop moving or you’re going to pop your stitches.”

He groans, both from pain and being told what to do. “Seriously, I’m fine,” he says with more energy. “I’m f-” he cuts off, eyes snapping wide open. At first Claire is worried this is another episode like earlier when he first noticed his lung and becomes alert. After pausing for a moment, he whispers, “K-karen?”

After everything she’d learned about Matt today, she really shouldn’t have been surprised he picked up on her in the room. But she couldn’t help but be amazed all the same. “I’m here, Matt,” she confirmed simply. 

After looking him over for another minute, Claire decides he’s doing well enough to let him have some space with Karen. Standing up, Claire says, “Foggy and I will go in the other room. Call if you need us.” She motions at Foggy to head for the bedroom with her and he reluctantly agrees. 

Karen stands as well, and kneels in Claire’s vacated spot next to Matt’s head. He turns his head slightly to face her, as much as his sore neck will allow. She can’t help but wonder what his heightened senses were picking up right now, especially about her. “So…” she begins. 

Cringing, Matt asks her, “Uh, how much do you know? A-about…?”

“A lot more than I did a few hours ago. Your, uh, armor was on the floor when I barged in,” she says guiltily. “Foggy and Claire explained to me a little. But I’d really like to hear it from you,” she coaxes him gently, hoping her tone will make it easier for him to open up. 

He had a pained look on his face still. This obviously wasn’t how he wanted any of this to happen. Despite her kind tone, he remembers how upset Foggy had been, and feels the need to apologize. “I’m sorry, Karen. Really. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

She nods, more for herself than for him. “I still wish you told me. But forget that. How about you tell me now?” She was hoping that giving him the chance to say it himself might help, considering he was obviously pretty broken up about it. Not that she doubted anything Claire and Foggy had told her; as crazy as it was, as soon as she saw the Daredevil suit on the floor, she knew it was all true. Naturally, she was curious how it was possible, but she still never questioned it. But hearing it from Matt himself would solidify it. Make it truly official.

“Tell you what you already know?” he asked skeptically. “I, uh, I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“Go ahead. Tell me what you felt you couldn’t before.” 

He took a deep breath, coughing a little when his lung complained about the action. “I… I’m Daredevil,” he said simply. It felt weird to say. He supposed, deep down, he wanted to let her in on his secret someday. Maybe. Karen and Foggy were as close to family as he had, and while lying felt like the safer option, he never wanted to hurt them. 

Despite his initial discomfort, Karen could almost see the weight come off of him. So she decided to let him tell her everything himself, helping him along when he needed it. “Thank you. So how about you tell me how that’s possible?” she coached. 

He seemed grateful for the nudge. “Remember how I was blinded? Even though those chemicals took my sight, they made everything else stronger. At first it was overwhelming. But through practice and training, I refined my abilities.”

“Claire said something about a world on fire?” 

“That’s what I… I guess you’d say that’s how I ‘see’,” he continued. “I can feel changes in the air. I can hear and taste and smell more than I ever thought there was in the world before. It all comes together and paints a picture in my head. And that picture is made of fire,” he explained. “That’s how I know what’s around me.”

“So do you really need your cane?” she asked. She wasn’t trying to help him along this time, she was genuinely curious.

“Not usually, no. But I have to focus on letting everything in, and in everyday life that can make it hard to function normally. So I could get around without it if I needed or wanted to, but when I’m just doing normal stuff it can be helpful,” he explained. 

Karen couldn’t help but shake her head in amazement. “All these things you can do… Foggy says you can tell things about people by smell. What about me?”

He seemed hesitant at first, but after squeezing his hand, he seemed to relax a little more. After a moment of thought, Matt tells her, “I know you washed your hair this morning, with the new shampoo you switched to about 2 weeks ago. You stepped on some gum. Don’t worry, it’s mostly gone,” he adds quickly when she jumped to look at the soles of her heels. “And I know you went by that bakery you like today - the one you go to when you’re stressed or upset.”

“Wow,” Karen breathed out. “He really wasn’t kidding. That’s incredible, Matt.”

He shrugged his uninjured shoulder in response. “Is what it is.” He clearly wasn’t comfortable making a big deal out of it, so they sat in silence for a couple minutes. Karen lightly ran her hand down part of his arm that appeared uninjured. It was meant to be a gentle gesture and she hoped that she wasn’t hurting him more than he already was.

She knew that he wasn’t going to be comfortable with her next question either. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look awful. Claire said something about a bat and falling a couple stories? Matt that’s serious.”

Matt wrinkles his nose and sighs loudly. Pain from being injured is awful, but the way people worry and hover and nag was nearly as bad. “I’m okay,” he says through a clenched jaw. 

It’s obvious she upset him. She supposed that one more person who knew his identity meant one more person fussing over him, and she can’t help but wonder if that played a part in his natural secrecy. “We care about you, Matt. I know you don’t like the attention, but it’s only because we care. I don’t know about you, but you guys are basically my family. And worrying about each other kind of comes with the territory,” she tried to say it as gently as possible, trying to stay on the side of affection and not lecturing. “You care about us, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answered without missing a beat. “But -”

“If something happened to one of us, wouldn’t you worry?” She cut him off before he could make more excuses. “Wouldn’t you want to make sure we’re okay? To make sure we’re safe?” 

“Of course,” he says again. “But it’s different,” he insists. 

“Why?”

“There are a lot of reasons that hospitals just aren’t a good idea for me,” he tries to evade. He knows the odds of Karen leaving it at that are slim to none, but he tries anyway.

Karen is unimpressed. She wasn’t going to settle for anything so vague. Claire had listed a bunch of excuses he uses earlier, but again she wants to hear it from him, and she hopes to refute each one. “Like what?” she asks innocently. 

“It’s not safe, for one. If anyone figured out who I was it could be really bad. Doctors are trained to examine injuries and question what happened, in case of abuse,” he reasoned. “If a doctor somehow made a connection or something, it could be dangerous.”

It almost seemed like a good reason. She could tell he had that answer up his sleeve for exactly this conversation. But she wasn’t going to be dissuaded so easily. “Matt, you’ve been lying to me for months about your injuries,” she said flatly. “I know you could lie to a doctor, too.” 

He makes a face, knowing that was one of his best thought out reasons and she shot it right down. Also knowing it would be pointless to continue arguing that point, he moves to another. “If someone followed me there-”

This time she cuts him right off, “You’d have to go home first anyway to get rid of that costume,” she reminds him. With a fake amount of innocence in her voice she asks him, “Aren’t you worried someone would follow you here, too? But you come home, don’t you?”

Another reason down. Sure, Claire and Foggy had poked holes in his logic before, but Karen was shooting down his reasons with such precision it was hard to argue. But Matt was nothing if not stubborn and he continues to the next. “There’s no point in going. I can call Claire, she can do anything they can do for me in an emergency room.”

“She can’t do surgery,” she points out.

“I haven’t needed surgery,” he points right back. 

“Yet.” 

“If I needed surgery-”

Karen rolls her eyes. She had a feeling he was going to be stubborn about this, but this was a bit much. “Don’t bother trying to tell me you’d actually voluntarily go if you did,” she interrupts. “We all know you’d either ignore it or try to talk Claire into doing it herself in your apartment.” Karen may not have known about this side of Matt for long, but she had figured it out quickly. A lot faster than Matt was counting on. 

He knew he only had a few more reasons, but hoped that one of them would finally do the trick, if only by sheer number. “Hospitals are hard for me,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t press but knowing she wouldn’t let him leave it at that.

“Yeah I can tell,” she said with a snort at his obvious understatement. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Frowning, he tries to deflect again. “I can tell you already talked about this with them. Why are you asking me?”

Perfectly calmly, she responds, “Like I said, I wanna hear it from you. So? Hard how?”

“Sensory overload, mostly. You know now how sensitive my senses are. In hospitals everything it so… loud. I can hear everything. Including every flatline,” he adds with some difficulty. Even Karen winced at that fact; she knew hearing the universal sound of the end of a life wouldn’t be easy, especially for someone like Matt who just wants to help everyone. “The smells are miserable. And I can taste most of the cleaning products too. A couple times I was hospitalized in college, I ended up medicated. Once because I was unconscious and once because the doctor insisted that I wasn’t in my right mind to refuse. When I’m on painkillers, everything is that much stronger. Or… or there’s nothing at all. All my senses go back to normal and I truly am blind,” he finished quietly, feeling profoundly vulnerable in admitting that he was still human. Even worse, he felt guilty admitting he didn’t like being normal. He knew that there were blind people around the world who coped with their lot in life, and it actually felt like a weakness that he couldn’t. Stick always told him people with sight relied on it too heavily, but the truth was he relied on his strengthened senses just as much if not more. 

Karen actually felt for Matt on this one. What he described didn’t just sound like an excuse. It sounded like hell. She knew that nonchalantly denying him this reason was not only unfair but almost cruel. “That… that sounds awful,” she admitted. He had to fight not to perk up at her agreement - maybe he could win this fight after all. “But if you were dying, wouldn’t it be worth it?” Or maybe not. “If going to a hospital could save your life, if it meant you could stay with us, would that not be worth it?” 

Her genuine concern made it harder to argue. And the guilt of the possibility of leaving his friends behind almost by choice was next to impossible to refute. “Karen…” he began, unsure how to continue.

“Matt. I think you know I’m right. And I think I know what you’re going to say next,” she told him serenely, though there was a bit of awkwardness Matt could detect in her tone, but he wasn’t sure why. 

“And what’s that?” he asked, not sure where she was going. 

She knew she had to be careful. She wanted to spare him from having to come forward with this next point, but didn’t want to unkindly assume anything either. “Claire told me that hospitals remind you of your childhood,” she began but trailed off, choosing to let him decide to continue or not. 

“Ah.” It was true, that would have been his next point. It was his last point, really. “What exactly did Claire say?”

“It was more in passing, really. Just that it’s another reason you refuse to go. That’s all. Don’t be mad,” she added, just in case this was something she shouldn’t have mentioned she knew. 

He shrugged his good shoulder again. “Doesn’t matter,” he said quietly about what Claire had told Karen. It was not something he was glad others knew. But considering he was going to use it as his next point, it seemed unfair to be upset with Claire. “She’s right… It’s true…After my accident when I woke up in the hospital, it was terrifying. My eyes were all bandaged up, but somehow I knew that wasn’t why I couldn’t see. My dad was there, but I still felt so, so alone…and everything was unbearably loud. I didn’t get used to all the noise in the world until a lot later, so I woke up and everything was awful. It’s not exactly a great memory.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen tells him. “I can’t imagine.” Matt makes a small sound of agreement. “I know that’s a terrible memory. And I really  _ can’t  _ know what it’s like, I’m not going to pretend I do. But are you really telling me that if you were legitimately dying here that you don’t care enough about us to do what you need to do to survive? Even if that means a hospital?”

Matt scowls, knowing he’s lost. After saying so many times that he wanted Foggy and Karen to be safe, he knows he can’t argue with her there. But he doesn’t intend to give in completely. “I still don’t want to go to the hospital now.” He had to fight with all his might to keep from pouting.

“Maybe not this time,” she said, not making any promises. “We’ll see what Claire says. Matt, I know you won’t do it for yourself. For whatever reason, you don’t seem to think you’re worth saving. But we’re telling you that we care enough that we’re not going to let you throw your life away. We’re doing this because we care about you. And we need you here.  _ Please _ take care of yourself. For us?”

He groaned in response. “I think you just out-lawyered me, Karen,” he tried to sound like he was joking, but she could tell he was sulking a little bit. Out of nowhere, he started laughing. She looked at him strangely, and he responded with a smirk, “Foggy’s cursing in my bedroom that I listened to you and not him. You know I can hear you, right?” he calls out the last part louder to be sure Foggy hears him. 

Foggy immediately yells back, “You know I don’t care, right? Damnit, I knew we should have told Karen sooner!”


End file.
